One worm, Two worm Red worm, Book worm
by hammy ham ham
Summary: A night in the library, a good book... What more could Jazz ask for? Well, not much, but whoever is sitting next to her in the loveseat might be nice... JazzxOC fluff


This is a JazzxOC fluff. Pure fluff, folks. I just needed to let out my fluffy juices somehow, and I'm Amethyst-Oceaned-out.

------

Jazz was sitting on her favorite plush lounge chair in the corner of her favorite room, reading a copy of her favorite novel by the light of the fire crackling in the chimney. Light danced against her delicate slippers and fleece bathrobe, setting the light teal fabric aflame with contrasting light and shadows.

A warm smile graced her lips as she her eyes dashed from one line to the next, delving deeper and deeper into the surprise-ridden world of Professor Hardwigg and his Journey to the Center of the little blue marble she called Earth and home.

She was, in this moment, dead to the world. A nuclear war could have happened outside her window and she would have carried on, traversing through the many many pages. But there was always one thing that would reveal that the world was more than a twelve by fifteen library. Well, two things.

Footsteps sounded on the wooden floorboards, a light thumping sound she'd come to recognize and await. She looked upward from her book, her smile growing as her sight trailed away from the small type and to the man standing in the doorway. His hands were snuggly fitted in his bathrobe's pockets, his entire posture speaking of security and comfort at the sight before him. He moved forward silently into the study, full of books of every title, author and genre. With practiced ease he selected an emerald green book from among the elaborate selection, flicking to the page marked by a single partridge feather.

Jazz lowered the book in her grasp to her lap, one finger teasing a laminated square between the slightly browned paper, marking her page. She watched with silent fascination as the man casually walk over to the squishy armchair facing hers. He settled into his usual, casual position the soft seat, the fabric making a slight puffing sound as the strong figure upon it released the air within. He gazed over the rim of his wide spectacles at the woman across from him, a smile equaling hers curving his bare lips.

Silently they gazed into one another's eyes. Turquoise met hazel, the firelight glistening on the lenses sitting before both pairs of eyes. Both shone with things words could never describe, mouth could never form, pen could never write. Joy, relief, comfort, emotions mixing in a brew labeled four letters, beginning with L and rhyming with turtle dove.

They lost themselves in each other's gaze, losing track of all measurements of time they had studied. Their world was a small one, consisting of that room, that fire, and those eyes. A bubble of joy, giving light to any and all lost in a dark shroud of loneliness.

A bubble popped by the pitter-patter of tiny feet. A new figure appeared in the doorway, looking curiously from one of the adults to the other. Both looked toward the doorway and smiled lightly, the little body walking forward and taking it's place on the man's lap. The man let out a contented sigh as it shifted on his legs, turning to look him in the eye. Hazel met Hazel, caramel bangs occasionally hiding each set of eyes behind their stringy locks.

Jazz stood and walked over to the chair, joining the other two on the chair's arm rest, lightly rubbing the back of the little person. The child stared for several seconds before grinning, nuzzling his head into the soft evening robes squishing around him. Two strong arms wrapped around him, holding him tenderly.

The child took in the smell, the feeling of being held by these arms. These all so familiar arms. The ones that chased away his nightmares and dried away his tears. A feeling of blissful ignorance enveloped the small body, his innocent voice cooing, "Daddy..."

Both parents smiled kindly at the little bundle in their arms, leaving the world behind once again. They watched as the young one toyed with the bangs hanging askew from his father's forehead, teasingly tugging at them now and again.

They laughed when the child took a handful and wrapped it around his tiny balled fist, playing with getting the hairs between his fingers. The child scrunched his face at the mysterious noise coming from his parents.

He looked to them to see just why they were making that funny sound when he noticed his father's looks of content. "Daddy, why'a you wooking wike that?" the child asked innocently enough, rubbing the man's cheeks with the stray strings hanging in front of his cheeks, still rosy and round with puppy fat. He let out a little whimper at the mysterious look on the man's face, a far away kind of look that scared him slightly.

Instead of the damnable wisdom his father excused for a language, the only response the toddler received was the soft whisper, "I'm perfectly fine, Mikey. Just thinking about how wonderful your mother is, and what I could have possibly done right to have her put up with me."

The words were barely audible, but they reached Jazz all the same. She let out the smallest of giggles and blushed at her husband's comment, smiling brighter than the stars hanging outside the window. She rolled her eyes at herself, even after ten years he could still make her act like a love struck school girl. It was what he did to her- his charming smile, his lighthearted jokes, and those bright hazel eyes that made her heart flutter into her throat from the updrafts caused by the heat of their passion.

She couldn't take that comment lying down- it was come back time.

"Why, Mitchel Johansen, I do believe you're engaging yourself in self-inflicted guilt. In my professional opinion-"

Mitch let out a mock yelp at his wife's comment, whimpering, "No! Not your professional opinion!" while holding Mikey to his chest, shrinking back into the chair like a child that had just been told they were going to the dentist. Mikey yelped at the movement, but giggled as he recognized what was happening. Mommy and daddy were playing.

Both held each other's gaze for a moment, frightened brown meeting mischievous aqua. All at ounce, the two broke out loud guffaws, laughing mighty belly laughs, while shaking the poor child between them, who was currently clambering for a shred of the logical sanity that normally hung around the two like a cloud. Sure he had seen his parents joke before- but that noise was just too weird!

"Dad-Daddy, what's tat ting wou do... Wit youw voice. It's wike youw... couping..." he gulped once he was no longer in motion.

As soon as the words passed his lips, his father turned him to look up into his eyes. He hissed a breath- did he make daddy mad, like when he fingie-painted the compooter?

Instead, he got a soft reply, a calm one. "It's called laughing, Mikey. You do it when you're happy. Here, let me show you..." he whispered before, without warning, launching into a full on- tickle attack.

Whatever Mikey had been expected, it wasn't this. He yelped and shrieked as fingers danced like lightning over his tummy, bringing out high pitched squeals from the three-and-a-half year old.

Jazz just rolled her eyes at her two men, both laughing. She just sighed. '_If you can't beat them...' _she reminded herself before joining in, tickling Mitch. His eyes widened and he called out-

- - -

"_SCULLY!"_

Another brown haired man yelped as his redheaded partner (in more senses than one) scrambled away, briefcase in one hand and sunflower seed bag in the other. She just laughed as he stumbled across his desk, trying to reach over without overbalancing himself.

No luck- his elbow slipped and he splayed, spread eagled, on the sealed wood below. Scully just smirked at his attempts to get his beloved sunflowers. He turned to lay on his back, staring at the building. "Tell me why I love you again." he mumbled as his neck cramped from the awkward fall.

She just laughed, replying, "because I'm a beautiful, intelligent woman." with more than a little haughtiness to her voice. Not that she was showing off- the guy preached it to her every morning.

"You forgot stubborn..." he mumbled.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. The irresistible force meets the immovable object..." he slurred.

She threw the seed bag at his head, cuffing the point of his sizable proboscis. "I'll show you immovable object." she said as she decided to take advantage of his attention being diverted to his throbbing nose. She turned to hide under the desk chair just as he came too, reaching out for one of her stilettos.

- - -

And so the two couples of brown haired men and red haired woman played well into the night, laughing and smirking all the way. Somewhere far, far away, a purple hooded figure smiled at the two pairs shown by the huge mirror. He nodded as their antics wore on, the mirrors changing to show different years, different places- but the same people, all fussing about.

"All is as it should be."

------

Just _had _to add that part about Scully and Mulder. It's to hold off anybody who wants to read X-Files: Phantoms. (I haven't forgotten it- I've been writing it along with Phantom Funnies and Flights of Fancy! The thing is, I can't split chapters very well.)

You can flame this to high heck, I just want comments. If you're wondering where I got Mitch from, Mitch is... I don't know where Mitch came from. I think he's my best friend's boyfriend's personality mixed with my science partner's. His relationship with Jazz is very much my parents' relationship. Yes, people who act like this do exist- I happen to _live _with them.

I have other JazzxMitch ideas, if you guys care.


End file.
